 | Phœnixiana; or, Sketches and burlesques |  |
RETURN OF THE EDITOR.
“Te Deum Laudamus.”—Judge Ames has returned!
With the completion of this article my labors are ended;
and wiping my pen on my coat-tail, and placing it behind
my sinister ear, with a graceful bow and bland smile for my
honored admirers, and a wink of intense meaning for my
enemies, I shall abdicate, with dignity, the “Arm-Chair,” in
favor of its legitimate proprietor.
By the way, this “Arm-Chair” is but a pleasant fiction
of “the Judge's,”—the only seat in the Herald Office being
the empty nail keg, which I have occupied while writing my
leaders upon the inverted sugar box, that answers the purpose
of a table. But such is life. Divested of its poetry
and romance, the objects of our highest admiration become
mere common-places, like the Herald's chair and table.
Many ideas which we have learned to love and reverence,
from the poetry of imagination, as tables, become old sugar
boxes on close inspection, and more intimate acquaintance.
“Sic—but I forbear that sickening and hackneyed quotation.
During the period in which I have had control over the
Herald, I have endeavored to the best of my ability to amuse
and interest its readers, and I cannot but hope that my good
humored efforts have proved successful. If I have given
offence to any by the tone of my remarks, I assure them that
it has been quite unintentional, and to prove that I bear no
malice, I hereby accept their apologies. Certainly no one
can complain of a lack of versatility in the last six numbers.
Commencing as an Independent Journal, I have gradually
passed through all the stages of incipient Whiggery, decided
Conservatism, dignified Recantation, budding Democracy
and rampant Radicalism, and I now close the series with an
entirely literary number, in which, I have carefully abstained
from the mention of Baldo and Wigler, I mean, Wagler and
Bildo, no—never mind—as Toodles says, I haven't mentioned
any of 'em, but been careful to preserve a perfect
armed neutrality.
The paper this week will be found particularly stupid.
This is the result of deep design on my part; had I attempted
any thing remarkably brilliant, you would all have
detected it, and said, probably with truth;—Ah, this is
Phœnix's last appearance, he has tried to be very funny, and
has made a miserable failure of it. Hee! hee! hee! Oh!
no, my Public, an ancient weasel may not be detected in
the act of slumber, in that manner. I was well aware of all
this, and have been as dull and prosy as possible to avoid it.
Very little news will be found in the Herald this week: the
fact is, there never is much news in it, and it is very
residents, in the enjoyment of their dolce far niente, care
very little about what is going on elsewhere, and residents
in other places, care very little about what is going on in
San Diego, so all parties are likely to be gratified with the
little paper, “and long may it wave.”
In conclusion, I am gratified to be able to state that
Johnny's office (the fighting department), for the last six
weeks, has been a sinecure, and with the exception of the
atrocious conduct of one miscreant, who was detected very
early one morning, in the act of chalking A S S on our office
door, and who was dismissed with a harmless kick, and a
gentle admonition that he should not write his name on other
persons' property, our course has been peaceful, and undisturbed
by any expression of an unpleasant nature.
So, farewell Public, I hope you will do well; I do, upon
my soul. This leader is ended, and if there be any man
among you who thinks he could write a better one, let him
try it, and if he succeeds, I shall merely remark, that I could
have done it myself if I had tried. Adios!
Respectably Yours.
| Phœnixiana; or, Sketches and burlesques | |